


Getting there, maybe.

by Pepperedsteak



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Fireworks are involved, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, POV Second Person, aka arthur has it bad, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 18:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12612872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepperedsteak/pseuds/Pepperedsteak
Summary: It was worth it, for just the few hours that you'd have to talk to Lance.Putting yourself into a situation where you couldn't help but stare, that was exactly worth the consequence of a panic attack, without a doubt.





	Getting there, maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote the beginning like a year ago, been avoiding acknowledging it after writing the rest.  
> Incredibly self indulgent and full of dorky dialogue, whoops.

* * *

He hands you the can of beer, freshly dug out of the cold tundra of a cooler. His smirking face and teeth light up the night right in front of you. All it took was you asking if spending one ounce of time with him would be fun.

Of course you should have seen this coming.

How else would Lance respond?

Your fingers brush the tips of his for a brief second as the can is transferred to your hands gingerly. He's still smiling, warmth emanating from his being and all you can do is shiver.

This is exactly what you wanted, wasn't it? A good long, hard tease into the night so you'd have more self deprecating thoughts to dwell on for the next few weeks to come. This is usually what you believe to be the case. Tonight would be better off a different story though, in your own true and honest opinion.

Earlier, an hour or two ago, you had set up two deck seats out in front of the shop. Lance had insisted that the both of you take part in at least one of the towns festivities, and purposely, but not proudly, you had declined on helping Lewis in the restaurant and eating dinner with Vivi and her family.

You wanted to watch the fireworks with him, for old times sake.

"Ya' know," Lance's rough voice cuts through your thoughts, and you whip your head towards him. He chuckles, shaking his head at your 'alert' attitude. "We could've just sat on the porch steps. I know I'm all old and you wanna take care of me, but I ain't that old." He stresses his statement and shakes his head again as you kick your feet out from under the lawn chair.

"Yeah- But we haven't done this sort of thing in, like, forever. The chairs were all dusty, and if we got em' we should use em' right?" You say, shrugging. Glancing away from him, you look up toward the sky to watch the unsurprisingly dull fireworks. Your town wasn't exactly known for bringing in big bank, and that had led to a constant downward spiral toward yearly events being mediocre at best. Not that you were complaining.

At this moment at least.

You raise the cold can of beer to your lips and sip, eyes slowly glancing and watching. He looks up at sky, the boom of the fire works not even working the mans nerves like they are to yours. You twitch while the lights shine over the both of you, and you've never seen his eyes that bright before.

"Yer' starin' again,"

You're pulled out of your trance in shock, whole body convulsing in pure anxiety as laughter claws it's way out of your throat. You? Staring? AS IF.

"Do I got somethin' on my face or..."

"No! No! Sorry I just," You pull yourself out of your laughter, Lance glaring playful daggers at you, his can of beer dangles in his finger tips as he leans back in his lawn chair. He proceeds to stare you down now, knowing that's one of the ways that'll surely get you talking. "I just, really liked the expression you just had. While watchin' the fireworks."

He cocks an eyebrow at that, a smirk gracing his face. He settles his can in the cup holder of his chair and runs a hand through his beard as he looks at you. God, you're embarrassed beyond belief. You look away from him and chug down some more of your own beer. Maybe if you get wasted you can pass out. You usually do anyways, so no chance of being an awkward putz.

"Are ya' sayin' I don't smile enough, boy?" You choke and sputter, Lance smirking at your reaction. Your hands wave and gesture in protest, that's not it! At all! But you can't really tell him the real reason, not tonight. You can't ruin tonight.

"No! It's not that, christ," You run a hand down your face and place your can of beer into your chairs cup holder. Your legs kick out from under you again, and you have the aching need to run, run. But that, that won't solve anything.

Just as you're about to speak, a particular loud boom interrupts you. The pressure in your ears makes your head throb, a headache is definitely going to settle in before you even know it. As if you weren't already going to get one from all your shit antics. You glance back at Lance, and oh, geez, he's not even looking at the fireworks. He's looking at you, eyes soft and a small smile, lights playing along his features in just the right ways. Your stomach double knots as you blush and cover you mouth, moving to look toward the ground.

You never finished your sentence, shit.

"You just, look really good. Like that." The hand on your face moves and waves at Lance. You stuttered, and now your face is hot, hotter than the meatballs Lewis would have made you eat for dinner, and definitely hotter than the fire Vivi wouldn've had going to cook her chicken.

You're absolutely burning to a crisp.

Lance, just shakes his head and laughs, booming and fulfilling. He sits up in his chair more, shaking his head as he presses a hand to his chest, trying his best to quiet himself. You fidget in your chair nervously, small chuckles bubbling from your lips.

"You know I hate compliments!" Lance snickers and pulls himself out of his seat, stretching and cracking his knuckles. He turns towards you as the sky lights up, hands on his hips. Jokingly scolding you.

"-And you know I hate old men interrupting my fireworks." You smirk, finger lazily pointing to the light show going on behind Lance's back. The man rolls his eyes, a closed grin adoring his face. He looks you over for a few seconds. Thinking.

"Oi, You just said I looked good, now you're calling me old? Artie, givin' me mixed signals here, boy." He laughs, waddling away while waving his hand. You choke on your own spit, sitting up in your seat as you whip your head around toward his retreating body. "I'm heading in for a break, don't wait up for this here 'old man'."

Flopping back in your seat with a groan, you smack a hand against your face. Jesus Christ.


End file.
